


Aloha

by Dr_Cat



Series: Like Minded [11]
Category: Knight Rider (1982), Magnum P.I. (TV 1980)
Genre: Airports, Charity Auctions, Hawaii
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Cat/pseuds/Dr_Cat
Summary: Michael's missing and Mr. Magnum's available.
Series: Like Minded [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642711
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Aloha

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own nor did I come up with Knight Rider, Magnum PI.. or the characters mentioned in this story. They were created by Glen A. Larson and Donald P. Bellisario and are copyrighted to NBC/Universal.

I hate flying.

Five and half hours of flight over more than two-thousand miles of open-ocean in the belly of a commercial airliner wasn't my idea of travel; it was torture. Worst of all, I lost communication with Michael about halfway through the flight. Whether to some kind of interference or my partner's sudden want for privacy, I couldn't say. I wasn't too worried about it while we were in the air, but now that we've touched down I'm concerned about the lack of contact. I tried connecting to the comlink again, but I couldn't pick up anything with my systems.

Soon, I was unloaded from the 747 and processed in the cargo terminal like any other common piece of freight; another reason I loathe flying, but I digress. Normally, Michael would be waiting on the sidelines, ready to tease me about the voyage and customs check, but he's not. I scanned the terminal and found no trace of my partner. I widened my parameters and still turned up nothing. I knew Flight 7854 arrived and disembarked, but I couldn't find Michael anywhere.

I tried turning off auxiliary systems and rerouting the power to my optical senors to give me enough range to scan the whole airport in depth . . . _subject not found_.

"Michael? Michael?! Where are you?" I tried the comlink again. I received no response again. Immediately, I patched through to the Foundation, Devon appearing on my screen. Before he had a chance to ask, I informed him.

"I can't find Michael, Devon."

"Are you in Honolulu?" he asked while waving to someone off-screen; Bonnie more than likely. Sure enough, she appeared on my monitor as well.

"Yes. The plane landed forty-five minutes ago, but Michael isn't at the airport. I can't locate him anywhere."

I noticed the two share a concerned look.

"Are you sure, Kitt? Maybe he's tied up in arrivals," Bonnie suggested.

"I've scanned all terminals three times. He's not here, Bonnie. I lost communication with him about halfway through the flight. I thought it was interference, but now I can't locate him at all."

Devon's features hardened. The expression both worried and consoled me.

"Bonnie, we need to track down who was on that flight," he said with urgency and authority.

"Got it," she replied in equal measure, stepping away from the screen while Devon turned back to face the camera.

"Kitt, we need to find him quickly. Tell me . . ."

And suddenly, I lost the signal. I tried reconnecting over and over but dropped the link every time. I frantically ran a self-diagnostic to trace the problem only to find myself in the crosshairs of what appeared to be a sophisticated wireless attack from some unknown hacker. Before the assault reached a point of no return, I started up my engines and barreled out of the hanger, surprising a great many airport attendants and hopefully thwarting my assailant. It did nothing to ease my distress over Michael's whereabouts.

I quickly rounded the airfield with security vehicles in pursuit, trying my best to avoid baggage carriers and their handlers. I finally made it out of HNL and onto H1, utilizing the highway traffic to escape airport authorities. Unfortunately, I couldn't outrun the fact Michael was missing and I couldn't get back in touch with the Foundation no matter how many times I accessed my communication relays.

I finally came to rest along a coastal road; one I know Michael would have stopped us along if he were with me now. I tried reaching out to Bonnie and Devon once more only to have it return unproductively. All my energies went into an internal analysis of my systems. The only thing I could find wrong was my inability to communicate remotely which reminded me of something Michael said about strategies once; cut off your enemy's communication and you cut off their access to help. I was isolated on an island with a possible threat and no way to call in the calvary, so to speak.

In my earlier days, I would have settled into inaction; frozen in uncertainty and protocol loops. Without Michael or FLAG, I didn't have any direction; which for a computer, such as myself, is as good as useless. But, these aren't my early days. I've learned to take direction from the information available to me in the best interests of my friends and others, or as Bonnie puts it, I've grown to act rather than simply react.

My main priority was to find Michael, so, when a 1984 Ferrari 308 GTS QV pulled up next to me with a gentleman inside introducing himself as a way of assistance I didn't hesitate to answer.

"Yes, Mr. Magnum. I wonder if you could point me in the direction of local authorities."

_**o** _

"Wait, Higgins! I'm being serious!" yelled my newly acquired companion in the extremely short shorts. He wouldn't have been my first choice in as far as associates go, but then, I didn't have a choice in the matter at the time. I needed help finding Michael and, despite my being, and I quote, a talking car, this gentleman was willing to do so. Apparently, he now needed this estate's majordomo to help me further. So, I watched quietly as my tall affiliate with questionable attire chased down the man of shorter stature, formal apparel, and two Doberman entourage.

"Magnum, I don't have time for your infantile shenanigans. The charity event is to start in less than twenty-four hours and you have yet to set these _well thought out_ security plans before me," answered Higgins in an accent not much unlike Devon's. It made me wonder if they came from the same part of England. It also made me wonder if I would ever get back to the Foundation.

"I told you earlier, Kitt has them, but that's not the point . . ." began Thomas Magnum, the best private investigator—not to be confused with private eye _—_ in Oahu; at least, in as much as he told me.

"Kitt?" the other man asked in a dubious tone.

"Yes, Higgins," Thomas answered resignedly.

"So, you've named it now?"

"Yes. No. I mean, I didn't name him. He already had a name."

"He? Really, Magnum? It's a car. Perhaps this missing person's case is starting to wear on you. Why not let the proper authorities handle it or maybe ask your so-called associates to track down some leads. At any rate, don't think this will excuse you from your duties here. You promised to keep this event secure."

"I know and I will, just as soon as you help me wrap up this case. See, the way we figure it if you can . . ."

"And by _we_ , I do hope you mean Rick and T.C."

Thomas remained silent. He told me earlier he usually relied on his friends to help with cases, but other than asking that Rick fellow to check a plate number, he hadn't really reached out to anyone. I must admit, it had me a little worried but then I couldn't blame him either. It was rather difficult to explain the situation when details about your client had to be withheld. It's what makes working with Michael so effortless now. He knows how to get around the dilemma.

"Am I to believe Kitt here is helping you investigate?" Higgins questioned heatedly.

"Why is this so hard for you to accept?" Thomas asked as he directed a pointed look at me. That, I did blame him for. He knew it wasn't in my best interest to share my identity with just anyone. It had already been a calculated risk letting him know in the first place, never mind the fact we still hadn't found Michael. Now, he was giving away _my_ secrets to the servant of a well-known author.

"For starters, you always seem to find some fantastic excuse to evade your commitments here at the estate . . ."

"I don't come up with excuses. They're called cases . . ."

"And, this _excuse_ involves you wanting me to believe a car hired you to find its driver."

"It's not an excuse, Higgins, its true!"

"Bye, Magnum. Come on, lads."

"Higgins! Wait!" Thomas shouted as he watched the Englishman and his furry company walk off before turning his exasperated gaze on me, "Ah, why didn't you say anything!?"

"My existence is supposed to remain a secret, Thomas," I said firmly, watching him roll his eyes before adding dryly "Something you've seemed to have forgotten."

"For crying out loud! Are you sure you're from Los Angeles and not Manchester or something?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look, Kitt, Higgins may be our last, if not only, hope of finding Michael now."

"I don't see how Mr. Higgins, who is preoccupied with a museum fundraiser, is going to help us find Michael, who you said we were on the trail of ten hours ago," I said as evenly as possible. The man squared his shoulders and gave me the most earnest look.

"Kitt, you revealed yourself to me because you needed help and right now I need his help if we want to reach your partner in time," he said with such conviction I froze. Michael always believed in trusting his gut. As a computer, I don't have the luxury of owning a gastrointestinal system, but . . .

"I'll see what I can do," I said with my own fervor as I opened the driver's side door to let Thomas in. I dropped into gear and followed in the direction of Mr. Jonathan Quayle Higgins the third. I detected him across the grounds and, apparently, he spotted me because he shook his head despairingly and began marching towards the main house. I also observed the two Dobermans still trotting alongside him. All I needed was a high pitched disturbance. Thanks to my voice synthesizer and projector, I had those two fur balls charging at me full throttle.

"Magnum!? What on earth are you doing?!" Higgins shouted as he came running behind _the lads_. Thomas held up his hands in surrender.

"I'm not even driving!" Thomas shouted over the loud barking of the dogs. Higgins looked flabbergasted.

"Stop this ridiculous charade immediately, Magnum. What are you doing to make them so . . . !"

"Zeus. Apollo," I said loud and clear, "Sit."

Immediately, the two Doberman Pinschers stopped their barking and sat promptly in front of my bumper. I'd gotten better with dogs as of late. It didn't' hurt they were well trained either.

I noticed Thomas smiling widely.

"I told you he could talk."

I took in the stricken face of Mr. Higgins.

"Oh. My. God!"

_**o** _

"And we know this is gonna work, why? Because this Kitt told us the power's just gonna shut off by itself?" the fellow named Rick asked as he and another man named T.C. came up to stand by my left front fender. Thomas smiled from his position in the driver's seat.

"Exactly."

Rick frowned; a gesture I noticed happened a lot where Thomas was concerned.

"How do we know we can even trust this Kitt, Thomas? You know, T.C., he wouldn't even let me talk to this guy over the phone yesterday," Rick stated hotly as T.C., who appeared just as miffed, scoffed.

"I just want to know how I keep letting you guys suck me into these kinds of deals. Not only am I out two flights today, but you still owe me for gas . . ."

"Guys, please," Thomas interrupted them tightly, "Higgins already got us in with the surprise charity auction and Kitt will take care of the technical aspect. All we have to do is execute the takedown. I'll go in through the front and you guys sneak around back . . ."

"That's what I'm worried about; you going in first, alone," Rick said warily.

"Yeah. What if they think you're some agent for this secret government organization? How do you know they won't just shoot and ask questions later?" T.C. seconded. I could tell his friends were really concerned about his well-being and it took everything within me to reframe from telling them I would do everything in my power to protect Thomas. Instead, the private investigator I'd come to trust spoke up to reassure them.

"Look, guys. As far as they know, I'm just the errand boy dropping off the mysterious car that showed up at Robin Masters'. They're not even gonna think twice about me once they get the car. Once the lights go out, find Michael."

"Alright, but you better come out of this. You still owe me," T.C. stated as he and Rick took off for the back of the fenced-off property.

"Okay, ready?" Thomas asked me once his friends were out of earshot. I pulled up a diagram of the estate on my monitor.

"There are two armed men in the front driveway, there to greet us no doubt. Two more are in the main house but . . . wait . . . besides Rick and T.C. there's another man round back?" I stated uncertainly. Something was off-putting about the unknown figure.

"Armed?" Thomas asked as he reached behind himself to pull out and ready a Colt. Michael didn't normally carry a gun . . . and neither did our surprise attacker.

"No, but, Thomas, he's above them," I noticed urgently, "I think he's going to quite literally get the jump on them."

"Well, don't just sit here. Step on it!" Thomas shouted as I quickly backed up and turned down the alleyway Rick and T.C. had taken moments before. Unfortunately, my hasty maneuver also drew the attention of the two armed men at the front of the estate.

"We're going to have company soon, Thomas," I stated as I came to a halt at the end of the lane, allowing my driver side door to swing open and for him to spring out. I ran another scan of the area and noted Rick and T.C. were barely able to hold off the stranger from above. Thomas would be joining them soon enough to even the odds, as they say, but so were the other two men from inside the house. I also detected the armed men coming up behind me; weapons drawn.

Even though it isn't normally in my programming to be on the offensive, I couldn't let these two reach the others. Just as they were within feet of my bumper, I quickly fanned out my doors and reversed rapidly. The two hardly knew what hit them. While they lay unconscious next to me, I retrained my focus on Thomas who had been pushed back into the alleyway, collapsing into some garbage cans.

He quickly recovered, shot up, and ran back behind the warehouse. I heard the telltale sounds of a fistfight and scuffle. I conducted another scan and found the two gentlemen from inside the house were now incapacitated by the back door. Then Rick and T.C. came scrambling out from behind the warehouse, trying to both break-up and avoid two men grappling with one another; two men I recognized.

"No, Thomas, that's Michael!" I exclaimed. Thomas pulled his punch.

"What!? Really?"

"Kitt!?" Michael called with nothing short of being overjoyed.

"Who said that!? Who're you guys talking to back there?!" Rick shouted. I pulled forward a bit and switched on my headlights.

"Yes, it's me, Michael," I said, just relieved to have my friend alive and well.

"You mean to tell me, this is Michael," Thomas said in confusion before regarding my partner, "You're Michael?"

"Yeah, and if you don't mind?" Michael said, gesturing towards the grip Thomas still had on his jacket.

"Oh, sorry," Thomas apologized, letting go and lightly tapping the fabric of my partner's attire back down. Michael stuck out his hand.

"You must be Thomas Magnum. I believe I have you to thank for helping my partner."

Thomas gripped my friend's hand in a brief shake.

"And you're Michael Knight. Kitt had a lot to say about you. He has a lot to say about a great many things, actually."

He and Michael shared a laugh over that. I wanted answers.

"Michael, where on earth have you been? Thomas and I looked everywhere for you. I thought you were kidnapped."

My partner gave me a rueful smile.

"Well, I kind of was, Kitt. I knew Frost and his men made me on the plane and if they got me they'd have you too. I tried the commlink but I think they overrode our network somehow, so I turned it off and left it tucked in the seat. They ever so kindly escorted me off the airfield into a waiting car. I lost them when they tried transporting me, but when I returned to the airport . . ."

"I wasn't there," I said knowingly.

"Right. I thought maybe they got to you until I saw that ad campaign. At first, it sounded like just some dramatic bit on Frost's part to lure me into a trap . . . mysterious Trans Am shows up for auction at some charity event of a famous author's."

"The dramatic bit was Mr. Magnum's idea," I said simply.

"Oh, so it's Mr. Magnum's idea now," Thomas scoffed, "Well, it worked, somewhat."

"Yeah. I saw the whole thing from the beach. I thought you took Kitt, actually," Michael said turning in Thomas' direction, "but then I did a little research and realized you had actually baited Frost. So, I came to the drop site mentioned at the auction and here we are. Sorry about attacking your friends, though. I didn't know . . . ." Michael began until he was interrupted.

"The car can talk!?" T.C. voiced as he and Rick circled around me in amazement. The look of awe in their eyes was nothing new to me, but it never got old either.

"It's incredible. What else can it do?" Rick asked. Michael frowned.

"We should probably head in and make sure Frost isn't getting away."

"Actually, Frost is still huddled under the front desk as we speak," I said before adding, "May I, Michael?"

He shook his head.

"Do your thing, pal."

I cued up the instrumental track of Aloha'Oe placed there as a special gift from Bonnie in preparation for our trip.

"Aloha, Rick. T.C. Since we weren't properly introduced; I am the Knight Industries Two Thousand . . ."

As I explained my capabilities, I noticed Michael and Thomas shared a look before they both said:

"Dramatic."

* * *

_A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. Proverbs 17:17_


End file.
